


The Cutthroat Job

by Lacerta



Category: Leverage
Genre: Chef Eliot Spencer, Cutthroat Kitchen, Eliot Spencer's Cooking, Gen, reposted from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25023775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta/pseuds/Lacerta
Summary: memprime asked: How would Eliot fare in Cutthroat Kitchen?“Perfect, Eliot, you got him, from the sounds of it.” Nate seemed a bit distracted; he probably was still out running the errands, but he was focused enough to coordinate their operation. “I’m pretty sure you’re on his radar, so do your best to lose this time, alright?”“And you should make it a spectacular fail, too,” Hardison interrupted through the comms.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	The Cutthroat Job

**Author's Note:**

> It's a fic I rediscovered while browsing my old tumblr account, and what a find! It's heavily inspired by copperbadge's answer to a tumblr ask, kudos to them!  
> No beta, though I fixed some mistakes before reposting the fic here.
> 
> _memprime asked: How would Eliot fare in Cutthroat Kitchen?_
> 
> _copperbadge replied: I think he’d be cranky to be on it in the first place tbh, because for Eliot cooking is something really emotional and personal. He’ll do it commercially, like I assume sometimes he cooks at the brewpub, and he’ll do it for a con, but to do it on a television show like that, I think he’d find it crass (not that I do, but Eliot would). So he’d be on it for a con, I assume, and that’d make him cranky. MURDER EYES. And the con probably would hinge on him losing, but it’s real easy to win by accident on Cutthroat Kitchen, so he’d probably go home with all the money AND a win, forcing Hardison to take his place backstage and do the shit he was supposed to do after losing._   
>  _I bet at one point Eliot serves an empty plate in an attempt to lose and still wins because “if he couldn’t make it perfectly he wouldn’t serve me substandard food, and I love the glimpse that gives into the mindset of the chef.” – The Guest Celebrity Judge._

“Okay, Hardison, I need you to steal a place on the…”

“No.”

Nate stilled and frowned. Out of the whole crew, Eliot was perhaps the most reasonable one. So why now…?

“Eliot, we need to infiltrate the show from the inside to get to our mark, we need you to participate in it. It’s the easiest way to make you interesting to Marlow.”

Eliot breathed sharply through his nose and, after a long while, nodded curtly.

“Fine,” he rasped. Nate hummed, satisfied, and was about to give Hardison a set of instruction when the hitter spoke once more. “But there is no way I’m cheating my way in. If I do that, I do that right.”

***

“Remember, Eliot,” Nate’s voice spoke directly in Spencer’s ear, “we need Marlow interested in you, we need you to be really good, but then not good enough to actually win the show.”

“I got this,” the hitter whispered in the comms. That didn’t seem to assure Nate, as he kept on talking.

“You’re in, so he already knows you’re good, but in the first round you have to really astonish him, maybe do what you made for Thanksgivings, the one that Parker liked so much…”

“I said I got this!” This time Eliot growled and muted the earpiece.

He didn’t have time to listen to Nate’s unnecessary advice, Eliot needed to focus. The man might be their mastermind, but when it came to Eliot’s area of expertise, he had no idea at all.

One does not astonish in the Cutthroat Kitchen with a casserole.

***

Sophie got herself in as a fengshui specialist. As always, she managed to convince people she was necessary and irreplaceable. Hardison, a man behind the computer once again, made a badge for Parker, it named her as a cameraman assistant – no one paid any attention to them and if the cameraman she supposedly worked for didn’t even exist, no one even looked twice at the badge anyway. Nate stayed out, controlling the situation remotely and running a few more necessary errands. With a few nifty bugs placed carefully, everything was set.

The con was on.

***

“You didn’t participate in the auction.”

Marlow, being the interviewer of the program, dragged him to a secluded room to get a few sentences to show in the final episode.

“No, good sir,” Eliot replied with a polite smile of an uncomplicated man he was acting as, but not entirely managing to mask a pained look in his eyes. “I came here to cook, not to disturb other chefs.”

“But giving up the auctions means giving others more opportunities to fuck your dishes up, eh?”

Marlow’s part of the dialogue would be cut off anyway, so he allowed himself more casual approach. Eliot wanted to snarl at the guy but knew better than to antagonize the mark.

“If I’m good enough, I won’t need any unfair advantage over other participants. And for now, no one’s targeted me in their sabotage, I hope it will go on this way.”

“Oh yeah, and aren’t you good! The duck was amazing! I gotta admit, I got a few bites behind the scenes and it was delicious! How did you manage to do it in just an hour?”

Here it comes, the hitter noted. Marlow was trying to fish out some additional information; the question wasn’t too nosy nor immediately suspicious, but he seemed to hope to dig out enough details to know if the chef was both skilled and desperate enough to bother trapping him in a con.

“First of all, thank you.” Eliot bowed his head, faking a blush reflex. “Means a lot. I guess it’s years of experience. I’ve always dreamed about having my own restaurant and that dream took me through some really awful jobs in the kitchens, but I ended up knowing much more that I would otherwise. I really hope I can make my dream happen this time.”

“Man, I’m on your side.” The interviewer clasped his hand on Eliot’s shoulder, and it was all Spencer could do to suppress the instinct that told him to twist his arm off. “I’ll catch you later, after the next round, okay? Good luck!”

***

“Perfect, Eliot, you got him, from the sounds of it.” Nate seemed a bit distracted; he probably was still out running the errands, but he was focused enough to coordinate their operation. “I’m pretty sure you’re on his radar, so do your best to lose this time, alright?”

“And you should make it a spectacular fail, too,” Hardison interrupted through the comms. “Audio from the social room on the set suggests that you made quite an impression. They tend to take previous round into account when choosing the final two.”

Eliot didn’t ask if Hardison watched the show. He probably did, though the hitter had no idea when Hardison found the time for all this. He didn’t ask, as it would be rather difficult to surreptitiously answer Nate or Hardison when being surrounded by the other participants of the show. Some of them were eyeing the hitter cautiously.

The next round won’t be easy, the other two were excellent cooks, even if Eliot judged them hard for joining the Cutthroat Kitchen shitshow of their own free will. The higher difficulty, though, would make it easier for Eliot to lose.

***

He didn’t lose.

“You didn’t lose, Eliot,” Nate pointed out harshly. “What part of "you need to lose” didn’t you understand?“

Spencer growled in frustration. He stepped out to the stairwell for a moment of privacy just to be assaulted by the team’s complaints.

"The judge really liked the exotic taste of your dish, I’m afraid, Eliot,” Sophie whispered from somewhere inside the studio. “And he’s convinced that you’re a big softie behind all this stone-cold persona. This is not good.”

“I KNOW-” Eliot stopped himself from shouting on the corridor and took a deep breath. “I _know_ what I was supposed to do, and I aimed for it. I made a fish dish with tinfoil utensils and one of my key spices was swapped for caraway. You don’t use _caraway_ with salmon in curry! There was no way the dish was good! I tried it; it was crap! That moron of a judge has no taste at all, Hardison, make sure they fire him.”

“Hey, my man, I can’t make them fire the guy just because he liked your dish!”

“We like all of your dishes,” Parker, unsurprisingly, agreed with Hardison.

“I thought we were supposed to help the humankind,” Eliot huffed. “I’m serious, he’s committing a crime against culinary art. He needs to go.”

“Okay, okay, everybody, calm down. We still can make it work.” Nate sighed. “Eliot, this round you _have to_ lose. Or we miss our chance. Do whatever it takes to mess the dish up. Hardison, I need you to visit Marlow’s flat, see what you can find there…”

***

“What are you doing, Rick?” The Cutthroat Kitchen host stopped by Eliot’s cooking station and looked over the ingredients. “Isn’t that a chocolate cake?”

“Uh, yes, I’m going for a chocolate brownie with a twist.” Spencer didn’t stop mixing the dough.

“Ooooh, the twist, that’s what we’re all craving here in the Cutthroat Kitchen! What’s the twist you want to try out? I’m seeing some interesting spices, that’s chili, am I right?”

Eliot swiped all the ingredients to the other side of the kitchen top and smiled, seemingly shyly.

“If I told you now, it wouldn’t be a big surprise, would it?”

“Of course, of course, Rick!” The host laughed loudly. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He left Eliot to it, but not for long. A mid-round auction began just a couple of minutes later and the spiteful blonde to Eliot’s right took away the hitter’s baking plate for just two thousand.

Perfect.

***

Just to err on the safe side, Eliot served an empty dish. No one can win with just a plate. A fool-proof plan.

Except–

“He wouldn’t serve me substandard food if he couldn’t make it perfectly. I just love the glimpse that gives into the mindset of the chef. Amazing, simply amazing!” The judge kept raving about Eliot’s final serving even long after the competition had ended.

There was hand shaking, dealing with a horde of well-wishers and three reluctant rivals, there was an inherent chaos of one show ending and changing the set for the next one scheduled. There was also an angry and anxious buzz in the comms that Eliot was mostly ignoring as well, because he had given up almost an hour ago.

“Okay, everyone, let’s go to plan N, let’s wrap it up here and follow-up on our con in a few days when Marlow attracts one of the other participants with a once-in-a-lifetime proposition. Hardison, we need to track his calls, see who he focuses on and who he collaborates with, it can’t be just him. Parker, Sophie, make your way out of there as discretely as possible. Eliot, stick around, the fake ID should be solid enough for them to send you the money, we’ll have something to cheer our client with. Okay?”

Eliot hummed noncommittally and heard Hardison's much more energetic “sir, yes, sir”. He could see Sophie making a fuss on the other side of the set, most probably staging her exit. And Parker…

“Hey, Hardison,” Parker whispered _really_ quietly, like she did when she was in the vents. “Do we still have that bug in the interview room?”

“Yeah, baby, they’re all still on, why?” came an immediate response.

“Nate, I think you might be interested in what they are picking up in the interview room.”

***

Parker saved the con, getting the info about Marlow’s accomplice who was the actual brains of their shady operations. The client got both money and revenge. The team went back to the pub, life was back to normal.

And if ever since Eliot reacted badly to anyone suggesting he should participate in a culinary show as a compliment, badly enough to verbally eviscerate the scared, innocent patrons, snarl about incompetent morons, ridiculous circus and pointlessness of even trying… Well. That surely had nothing to do with that one episode of Cutthroat Kitchen that had never aired, having been erased from existence by a very talented, very threatened, and very blackmailed hacker. Nothing at all.


End file.
